Chapter Fifty-Eight: Clover

Mo Lan and An Feng were almost at the door when they decided not to answer the call. Qian Yin, seeing her call rejected, was momentarily stunned—Mo Lan had never hung up on her before.

“What’s wrong?” Coldblood and Boss Jin both looked at her in confusion, for Qian Yin’s face had grown tense.

“It’s nothing…” Qian Yin fell silent, unable to imagine what might have happened.

“Boss, there’s a man and a woman outside, asking for Miss Qian Yin. Should I let them in?” A bodyguard entered, bowing his head as he spoke.

“Could it be those two?” Qian Yin’s first reaction was that Mo Lan and An Feng had arrived, perhaps even encountering the same trouble as before at the entrance.

“Miss Mo Lan is here too?” Boss Jin sounded almost excited as he said this, but the bodyguard paid no attention, standing stiffly as before.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go bring them in!” Boss Jin roared angrily at the bodyguard’s lack of tact—was he trying to embarrass him in front of friends?

“Yes, sir!” The bodyguard, unfazed, bowed again and quickly left. In just a few minutes, he ushered in the two guests who had hurried over.

Upon seeing that it really was them, Boss Jin beamed, “It’s such an honor that you’ve all come to visit. Anything here that catches your eye, please, consider it a gift from me.”

Mo Lan didn’t mind at all as she sat down beside Qian Yin, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before accepting the tea with a smile.

An Feng, on the other hand, felt a prick of annoyance. Did Boss Jin fancy these two girls? Why was he treating them so well? Were men like him just so useless in this situation?

Coldblood shot An Feng a sidelong glance. What was with this man? That look of jealousy seemed familiar. It seemed those two were getting along well enough. The girls were close friends—how wonderful it would be if they held their weddings together. Yet in the end, they wouldn’t enter the same household.

“Come sit down! Why are you just standing there?” Mo Lan cast An Feng a look. What was wrong with him? Was he displeased to be here, or was it Boss Jin’s enthusiasm that bothered him?

An Feng hurried over, seating himself next to Coldblood. As he lifted the teacup, he couldn’t help but notice its quality. Boss Jin was truly wealthy, giving such expensive gifts and even using such fine tea sets. His own home was so simple—he had never seen such luxury.

If anyone overheard him, they’d want to give An Feng a good beating. “You think you’re poor? Really?”

“The Mo family is in trouble—are they alright? Boss Jin has some issues here, so I must stay. I never thought they’d attack the Mo family at the same time. Are the four little ones alright?” Qian Yin grabbed Mo Lan’s hand anxiously, unconcerned about anything else.

“They’re fine. Suddenly, the attackers received orders and retreated immediately. It was on the verge of breaking out into a fight, and if it had, someone would have been hurt.” Mo Lan still felt a lingering fear as she spoke—thank goodness they’d withdrawn, or who could predict the consequences.

Boss Jin’s hand trembled slightly as he sipped his tea. It seemed that, if not for Qian Yin and Coldblood’s presence, his place might have been under attack as well. Had the underworld grown so bold?

Everything he owned, his very life, was precious to him—dead, all would be lost. Now more than ever, he needed to protect himself.

Once Qian Yin heard Mo Lan confirm everyone was safe, she finally relaxed, lifting another teacup to drink. The tea was delicious. As long as they were safe, all was well.

A hush fell over the room, until suddenly, a sculptor rushed in.

“Boss! It’s done!” The man’s hurried steps and excited shout made him look like a child who’d just received candy.

“What’s gotten into you? What’s so important that you’d interrupt at a time like this?” Boss Jin was clearly displeased at the interruption—what could possibly matter more than his own life?

The sculptor extended his hand and opened it, revealing a four-leaf clover carved from emerald—exceptionally shaped and flawlessly crafted. “Here it is,” he announced joyfully, “the first emerald four-leaf clover, perfect for a gentleman to wear.”

At the mention of the four-leaf clover, both Mo Lan and An Feng instinctively looked up and exchanged glances, then looked at Coldblood—was this what they’d come here for?

Mo Lan wondered, “Is Boss Jin really so generous as to simply give it to us?”

An Feng thought, “Why is Boss Jin being so generous? Surely he has an ulterior motive—nothing in this world comes so easily.”

All thought of danger forgotten, Boss Jin’s face broke into a delighted grin as he held the clover, inspecting it carefully. It was identical to the real thing, just like the design sketch.

After a thorough examination, Boss Jin gave Coldblood a thumbs up. “You truly are an extraordinary person.”

So this was Coldblood’s accomplishment?

Coldblood merely lifted the corners of his mouth, not quite a smile, but far softer than his usual cold demeanor.

Qian Yin reached out her hand, and Boss Jin promptly passed the clover to her with a grin. She held it up to the light—indeed, it was a masterpiece of emerald, so perfectly made, so beautiful.

Boss Jin tapped his palm, already looking forward to seeing the finished pieces from the other design sketches. The sculptor, too, was elated to see everyone’s joyful expressions, feeling a strong sense of accomplishment. He greatly admired the designer, longing for his works to be perfect, but so rarely finding a suitable design to realize that ideal.

An Feng didn’t step forward, but Mo Lan walked over to him and took off the necklace around his neck. She brought it to Qian Yin for a comparison. There was simply no comparison—one was divine, the other mundane.

The two women, thrilled, admired the two pieces, delighted by the difference in their quality. After all, the allure of something that sparkles is difficult for any woman to resist.

“Master sculptor, when will the other three be finished? I’d like them delivered before tomorrow if possible—and I hope you and the other craftsmen can bear with the extra work. We may have to rush back soon,” Qian Yin said, looking up at Boss Jin, making it clear they might not be able to continue protecting him.

“I’m afraid we can’t possibly finish them that quickly. A single finely carved piece takes days—it’s a painstaking task. This was just our first trial,” the sculptor replied, troubled. Carving required immense patience; sometimes a sculptor would spend days on a single piece.

Boss Jin stroked his chin, thinking for a moment before speaking. “Then accompany me to the Ore Mountain. After we return, you can leave—and I’ll show you the stone veins as well.”

Qian Yin considered, then nodded in agreement. Once she agreed, the other three had no objections.

Though Ore Mountain was a dangerous place, with these four as his guard, Boss Jin was confident he’d return safely.